


Diner Booths and Love Confessions Go Hand in Hand

by TheFourDoctors



Series: Hold Me True (You, Me, This Diner Booth) [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Drunkenness, Frottage, Intoxication, Kissing, Love Confessions, Making Out, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Not Beta Read, Other, Poison is stoned, Sex Is Fun, mwah mwah they kissy and do the grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26312209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFourDoctors/pseuds/TheFourDoctors
Summary: In which Poison is smashed and totally likes Ghoul.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Hold Me True (You, Me, This Diner Booth) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930567
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Diner Booths and Love Confessions Go Hand in Hand

Poison stumbles inside, head spinning at approximately 116 miles per hour. Their vision is as slurred as their voice as they drunkenly fail to sing, collapsing heavily into a diner booth. Their breath escapes in one fell swoop.

Their eyes have fallen shut, just to rest and let their brain recuperate. Eventually, although hesitantly, their eyes do open again, and they catch a flash of black and yellow and colorful wires. The music booms loudly outside.

“Welcome back,” Ghoul hums. His hair is messy and free today, hanging just below his chin. Poison wants to bury their hands tight into those locks to just feel, to make Ghoul squirm.

They don’t. Instead, they groan and curse every god under the sun, but quietly and under their breath. Too loud, and they’ll likely be stuck down.

Something sparks, and Ghoul swears and sucks at his sizzling finger.

“Sounds like a wild party out there,” he observes, cautious in his return to the wires. He sags in relief when it doesn’t blow up in his face.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Poison sighs. They hardly even remember anything that just happened. Their face feels slick with perspiration and mysterious kisses, skin sticky with fruity drinks and the slimy engine grease that seems to follow everybody. They most definitely need a shower.

Ghoul hums again in response, and Poison takes pleasure in watching him work, admiring the way his tattooed fingers curl and tug and pull at the delicate wires. Imagines what else those fingers can do. Specifically to their body. Specifically _inside_ their body. The thought makes them shiver.

His eyes are focused and sharp, a contrast to his face, lit softly from the diner lights above. He appears to glow, like some beautiful and broken bot under the bright lights of the far-away city. They lick their lips, breathing falling short and heavy.

Poison closes their eyes tight and try to will the erotic images of Ghoul away. Tries stop the intrusive thoughts that threaten to swallow them whole, that make their blood pump wildly in their veins.

“Poison?” Ghoul’s voice comes soft and inquiring. Ironically, it’s a sharp knife that cuts through the buttery haze of their mind.

They don’t answer, instead trying to focus on the music outside, a low beat pulsing through the ground, up their legs, to their hammering heart. It matches speed.

“You know, I understand if you wanna go back out there. I mean, I know that I’m a bit boring to be around when I’m working, and you probably want to hang out with interesting people-“

“No! No. Mm, ‘wanna stay with you,” Poison says (a bit too quickly), and cringes to themself.

“Oh.”

Ghoul picks at a stray copper wire. Poison thinks he might be blushing, but it’s impossible to tell in their inebriated state and the warm lighting of the diner.

“‘nd, I don’ think you’re boring,” They try, just to make conversation and end the awkward silence. Silence is suffocating. “mm..I think you’re...you’re pretty...” they inhale, long and deep. “...pretty cool. Ta be ‘round. Yeah. Pretty...pretty...you’re very pretty...”

Poison trails off again, eyes falling shut and humming to the wicked guitar thrumming through the drab walls. This song is good and familiar. It’s a nice distraction.

Their eyes drift open when the solo ends, and Ghoul is smiling bashfully, staring down at his fidgeting hands. He catches Poison’s gaze, who’s eyeing him strangely. The smile drops.

“What?”

“You’re just,” they lean forward, hazel eyes low and cloudy. Cheeks stained pink from the intoxication, and maybe something more. “What are you..?” Poison shushes Ghoul, finger pressed to his chapped lips, dark orbs searching endlessly.

“Pretty. So, so pretty. Yeah...that’s...you’re...”

Ghoul’s heart is hammering. He knows Poison is drunk and probably high off their ass. They’re just saying things. things they don’t know they’re even saying, and will forget about. Meaningless nothings. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

And yet...

They’re so close. He can feel Poison’s breath across his cheeks. It doesn’t smell too great, but he couldn’t care less about that, because his blood is running hot beneath his skin, heartbeat roaring in his ears. Their lips are so soft. So close. Shiny and wet.

“Pretty...pretty...” They lean forward, slowly... “So, so...pretty...”

And Ghoul stands up, shaking and breathing heavy.

“W-Wait-“

“I uh...I should- I should go. You’re trashed. Should sleep it off in the van before Kobra comes looking for you.”

But before his can make his cowardly escape, Poison grasps his hand, suddenly pulling Ghoul back with incredible newfound strength. He stumbles and falls heavily into their lap. The beat pounds outside, pounds in his brain, the voices indistinguishable.

“Poison, just-“

He looks back up, but Poison is as aware as ever. Their eyes are still a bit hazy, and their skin flushed down to the bone, but they are the eyes of a sobered up human, widened with a world shattering realization.

“You like me.” Poison starts, bangs framing their face, lips parted and breaths falling shaky and shallow. The diner light shines down upon them, igniting their blasted red hair into a fiery halo.

“I- I don’t- I-“ Ghoul swallows, and gives up. His secret was out there, and he feels the anxiety chewing him up, terrified of what Poison would think, would do with this information. A small part of him, however, was hopeful, and he tries to feign confidence. Tilts his chin up and crosses his arms.

“You like me. He likes me.” They nod, like they’re affirming it to themself. “He likes me. I think I like him. He’s really cute and hot.”

“Fuck.” Ghoul whispers, posture breaking entirely. His heart is fluttering like a pack of hungry crows.

“I want to kiss him now. Can I kiss you now? I feel like I need to kiss you now. I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

“Yeah. Kiss me.”

And they do. It’s not perfect, far from it, but it feels great. Real. Grounded. His blood burns slowly, neck aching from the angle, body feeling way too hot and clothes sticking to his skin. But, he kisses back just as enthusiastically, lips parted with a breathless moan.

Ghoul decidedly sits up to face Poison after just a few minutes, hands a heavy weight on their shoulders as the kiss slows to a crawl. Deep and exploring. Passionate and heavy. He holds back, just to taste. Feels the hands clutching his shirt drop, slipping down to his waist as they make out. Groans low and deep into the kiss, feels an answering moan against his lips.

Those hands then slip down further, into the back of his low-rise jeans.

Ghoul’s eyes snap open, and he peels back at the heated touch. His heart hammering wildly in his chest, hands still caressing his friend’s soft, round face. “S-Sorry I- I just- I thought you were-“

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Oh fucking fuck.

They’re so beautiful. His resolve practically crumbles like a tower of soda cans.

“Fuck, keep going.”

Clearly they don’t need to be told twice, as their hands return to his -absolutely amazing- ass, grinding their hips up into him with this sort of hurried and animalistic rhythm. It’s clear Poison is losing their goddamn mind with want.

Ghoul totally fuckin’ digs it.

“Yeah...oh- oh god yes-“ their voice has gone all high and somewhat nasally, breathing rugged like someone just choked them out for a good ten minutes. Something like this shouldn’t be working for them at all, but it totally is, and Ghoul is so into it that he’s about to cream his goddamn pants. A dirty, quick fuck against a gross diner booth, and he’s already going to cum. It’s, quite frankly, pathetic.

But- it’s just- there’s something about the way Poison is totally using him, completely uncaring as their hips buck so hard he knows he’s gonna bruise, that is getting him off. He feels put to good use, yet wanted at the same time as their lips come to meet his neck, reminding him ‘hey, it’s not just me here, and I want you to cum all over me.’ His cock throbs in need, super okay with the thought of riding Poison to completion right then and there, but clearly they weren’t reaching that point tonight.

That’s alright. He’s content with getting off like this. With Poison groaning, whimpering, and babbling in his ear, hips bucking so much it’s practically real sex, hands unwilling to stay still for longer than a couple seconds. And god, those words. Those filthy, filthy words. Poison is never able to shut up and it’s usually annoying, but here it’s so damn sexy. So good. Ghoul is in a permanent state of bliss.

He’s so blissful, in fact, that he completely misses what Poison says next, because his orgasm slams him like a freight train and his resulting moan is so fucking loud and oh god oh fuck he’s cumming-

“Oh- Ghoul!” they gasp, arching dramatically beneath him, gorgeous eyes rolling back into their skull as they reach their peak and tumble right the fuck over. No preamble. Ghoul would’ve cum twice at just the sight alone if he weren’t so wrecked already.

When they come around again, it’s to the heady, thrumming beat from outside pulsing through their sluggish bodies. Ghoul groans and reluctantly pulls back from the overwhelming heat of Poison’s body. They both are breathing the same used air, ragged and heavy.

Poison catches his eye, and smiles that dorky, crooked grin that never fails to seize Ghoul’s heart in a vice-like grip. They look endearingly ridiculous yet unbelievably sexy with their hair all fucked up like that. He takes a moment to run his hands through those firetruck red locks.

Poison giggles softly.

“He likes me. I totally like him. I think I want to date him.”

Ghoul smiles back, his heart doing that thing again.

Fuck.

He’s wholly and truly in love.

“I think he likes you too. I think he would totally want to date you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mayhaps there will be more
> 
> But who knows?


End file.
